tagLoving WivesMy Wife and I

My Wife and I


My wife Mary and I live in a college town with our two small girls. We have been married for almost 12 years. My wife taught school until we started our family.

About a year ago my wife began working for a local college's athletic department as a tutor. I constructed a room in our daylight basement for her tutoring work. We had a glass patio door installed so the students can enter the room without going through our house. The basement has a full lavatory adjoining the room and my workshop. Most of her tutoring is done in the evening. We are located about a mile from the college dormitories where most of her students reside.

A few months ago I happened to go into the basement bathroom, and I spied a condom, with its reservoir tip full of semen, lying in the toilet. I called my wife down to have a look. Her face reddened, and she turned and hurried upstairs. I didn't know what to think, but Mary soon returned and said that one of her students had brought his girlfriend to his tutoring session a couple nights earlier. She suggested that the couple had sex when she was upstairs putting our girls to bed. It sounded plausible.

A week or so later I had some reason to interrupt my wife during a tutoring session. When I walked in to her office she was standing alongside the student, and was rubbing his shaved head. It looked like his hand was under my wife's skirt. I wondered what was going on, but I pretended not to notice their activity. I was anxious to talk to her about something else, but I decided to wait until the student was gone.

Her tutoring was always scheduled to end at 9:30. The information I needed from her could not wait, so when I assumed her student had gone I went back down. What a surprise. She and the student were standing in the open doorway. He had his hands around her, and they were in a pretty close embrace. When the student, a big black athlete, saw me he immediately removed his arms and hurriedly walked away.

My wife gave me some feeble excuse that the young man was having some problems, and she was just trying to be a mother figure to him.

Most of the students walked the short mile from the college dorms to our house. Sometimes in bad weather my wife or I would drive them back. Well, one rainy night my wife drove that same black student back to his dorm. She was gone over a half hour for that short trip, and when she returned she was obviously excited. Her face was red, her hair was mussed up, and she did not even bother to talk to me before she rushed into the bedroom. I wondered whether that black guy had tried to molest her. She did not want to talk about it, but the next day she gave me some feeble excuse about the car stalling. I did not believe a word she said.

A couple weeks later I went to a basketball game in a nearby town with some friends. I did not plant to return until after eleven o'clock, but the game had to be canceled. I was back home before ten o'clock. The house was dark, and that was strange. My wife always stayed up until after ten, and her tutoring sessions always ended by 9:30. I walked into the bedroom, but she was not there. Just as I returned to the living room she came rushing up the stairs from her office, wearing her bathrobe, and seemingly out of breath. She said she had been preparing to go to bed when she recalled that she had not locked the patio door after her last student left. She hurried past me to get to our bedroom. In a minute she was in the shower.

I was beginning to suspect some hanky-panky. My wife almost always showered in the morning after I left for work. I went down to the basement to look around. More damning, a pair of jockey shorts was lying under a chair.

In bed with my wife I tried to feel her pussy, bu she kept her legs tight together and pushed my hands away, claiming to be very tired. Also, she was wearing panties under her nightgown. The only times she did that was during her period, and her period had ended about a week earlier. I did manage to feel her panties afer she was asleep, and I felt a pad inside them.

Mary uses a diaphragm for birth control, and as soon as she went into the bathroom in the morning I checked her night-stand. Her diaphragm was not there!

I did not say anything to my wife about my discovery, but it sure preyed on my mind. Who had screwed her? I never thought she would have the "hots" for a college boy at least 12 years her junior. For the next couple week I paid more attention to the students she was tutoring.

Most of the students were tutored in pairs. Most were also males. I did learn that one super jock always came alone, and usually he was there for more than the usual hour. Mary said that she often wondered how he ever made it through the college door, but he did excel in track and football. He was over six feet tall, very broad-shouldered and muscular. She tutored several of those big guys, but almost always in pairs. My wife talked so much about Eddie that I decided he was the one getting into my private playground.

I was sure my hunch was correct after what happened one Saturday. We occasionally hired a college student to do yard work, and Mary told me that morning she had one of her students coming that day to help out in the yard. We needed it, so I gave it no more thought.

When I came home from golfing I found her and Eddie eating lunch in the kitchen. She introduced us, and soon thereafter she drove him home. I checked her night stand and found her diaphragm was missing again. Later I found that someone had showered downstairs. My wife did tell me that Eddie had got so dirty that she let him shower downstairs.

In my job I had to spend an occasional night out of town. Several days after Eddoe worked in or yard - and undoubtedly on my wife - I was gone overnight. As soon as I returned late the next morning I checked for Mary's diaphragm. It was not in its box, but I suspected that it was in Mary's "box". When I checked again after dinner it was back in the night-stand.

I decided to set a trap, and perhaps catch Mary and Eddie having sex. Before I had to make another trip out of town a few weeks later I told Mary that I would spend the night away and take the early morning flight back. Instead I took a flight back so I was home by nine o'clock that same evening. I parked down the street where I could still watch my house.

Shortly after I had parked I saw her two students scheduled for that night leave. Then Eddie appeared and went to the front door. No students were allowed in the hose that way. As soon as our bedroom light went on I let myself in the patio door and sneaked into the hallway outside our bedroom. Someone was showering. The bedroom door was closed, so I could see nothing. After the shower stopped I could hear voices, my wife's and a man's, but I could make out very little.

I never realized our bed made any noise when we were having sex, but I soon heard the rhythmic sounds of our mattress straining under the heavy load bouncing up and down on it. It did not last too long. I guess he could not last any longer than I did.

After the bed noise stopped all was quiet for a while. Then I could hear him talking and my wife giggling and laughing a little.

Then the phone rang. I did not think Mary would answer it, but I moved hurriedly around the corner, and just in time. Mary had grabbed her robe and raced out to the phone. I don't know who called, but very soon Mary went back to the bed. And she did not shut the door tightly that time. I was able to push it open a little farther, and just in time to see her big stud go into the bathroom.

I was able to hear more of what was said in bed, especially what lover-boy said. I had to admit he knew how to build up a woman's ego. I am sure my wife appreciated such praise about her body and her performance in bed. And she was doing a lot of playing with his sex equipment, and made some remarks about it. I could hear them kissing, and some sucking sounds, too. But soon it was quiet again. But then again I could hear the rhythmic protesting of the bed. And that time it lasted much longer. He rode my Mary for a far longer time than I ever had. I envied his endurance, and wished I could stay in the saddle just half as long as he did that time.

My original plan had been to burst in upon them, but as the evening wore on I decided not to make a scene. When her lover used the toilet then began dressing I decided I better leave. I sat in the car and waited until the cuckolder came out and walked toward the college.

I had been in the house for over two hours. Since her stud was gone I decided to go on home and tell Mary I had managed to get a flight that got me to the airport right after midnight. I drove back into town and bought myself something to eat and drink before I returned home, arriving about an hour after midnight. I lingered in the kitchen for awhile to give Mary a chance to do anything necessary. I heard the toilet flush and the water running, so she was aware I was home.

As soon as she was back in bed I went in and told her the lie about why I was home so unexpectedly. I waited a while before going to bed. No sense in making a scene. The damage was done.

Later in bed she pretended to be sleeping. I did not even attempt to explore her pussy. What was the use? I knew it was full of another man's semen. I did feel her panty. Of course she had a napkin in there to catch the semen that was leaking out of her.

Instead of showering after breakfast Mary showered while I was still in bed. Her diaphragm was in her night stand, so she had not used it. That did bother me. If she got careless when having sex with me it would not be so bad, but the thought of her having another man's baby - especially a black man's - was a serious matter.

I did not have to go to my office that day. Instead I sat around trying to decide what to say to Mary about last night. She tried to avoid me as much as possible, staying close to the girls and bustling around doing housework.

We did not talk until the girls were in bed that evening. Since it was Friday she did not have any students to tutor. After the TV news was over I shut off the TV set and turned to Mary. "I think we better have a talk, Mary. You know what about."

"Yes, I know," she said, looking straight at me. "I have been a bad girl, and all I can say is that I am sorry. I did not intend for things like this to happen, but they did. I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me for the sake of our family."

What could I say? I had expected some lies and excuses, but here she was admitting her guilt. She told me about the first time she had seen Eddie's sex organ, and how it excited her so much. Se knew it was wrong, but she just could not help herself. She became obsessed with the idea of having sex with him.

In the following days we talked openly about our sexual problems, and my wife's infidelity. I knew that we were only having sex about once a week, and I thought that suited my wife just fine. She let me know that it was not enough. And she wanted me to pay more attention to her and her sexual needs. We both agreed that I was not doing the job a good husband should do, and I agreed to try harder. I don't think I can satisfy her completely, so I told her she could have occasional sex with her lover, but not more than once a month. And she must always use birth control, either her diaphragm or a condom. I think this acquiescence really pleased her. All in all, I think our marriage has become more solid after this episode.


I have rad my husband's account of my cuckolding relationship with Eddie. Now I want to tell my side of the story. I do regret what I did, but I cannot erase the fond memories of my experiences with Eddie.

Eddie had been one of my tutoring subjects for a couple months. He was just another student, anxious and grateful for my help. He was so polite, so ingenuous and so eager to learn. He was twenty years old, and an excellent athlete on the track teams and the football squads.

I shall never forget the Saturday that Eddie helped me in the yard. We had hired college students to do yard work for us a few times, always one of my students. My husband was away that day. He seemed to have a habit of being gone when there was work to be done in the yard.

That Saturday Eddie worked for about three hours when it began to rain. I told him to stop, but he replied that he did not mind the rain, and that he needed the money. The rainfall became harder, and soon Eddie was soaked. He was not wearing a coat, and I could tell he was cold and shivering.

I led him into the basement by the bathroom, and I ordered him to take off his clothes. I told him I would put them in the dryer. I intended for him to remove only his shirt and pants, but he doffed the shirt, undershirt and pants, then turned away and removed his undershorts. He picked up his clothes, then turned and handed them to me. I guess I really stared at his naked body. Even after I grabbed the clothes I think I kept staring. He followed me over to the dryer, and he opened it for me. All the time my eyes were popping out of my head.

"I think you better get in the shower," I said, "and I'll go find something for you to put on." He was feebly attempting to cover his private parts with his hands, but that was an impossible job.

I found my husband's robe while he was showering, and I waited for him to finish. Suddenly he yelled, "Mrs. Moore, do you have a bigger towel? He opened the door, and was holding a face towel in front of him. We seldom used the basement shower, and there were no bath towels there. I ran upstairs and rushed back with a bath towel. He was still standing with the face towel. He moved that towel away and grabbed the towel I handed him, exposing his genitals to me again.

I could not get that young man off my mind. I had all kinds of wild thoughts running through my mind. What a day!

Eddie was not shy, and was very forthright and not reticent about sharing his ideas on any subject. We often talked about intimate things we probably should not have discussed. He told me that he had dated a few white girls, but that he never had sex with one. He admitted that he had a compulsion to have sex with a white woman, and that most of his black friends shared that desire. It was probably not nice, but I often teased him about it, and I even gave him advice on how to get his wish.

As our discourses became more intimate so did our physical interactions. When he would be studying at the table I would rub his shaved head and upper back. Then one evening it went a little farther. Eddie had a test coming up, and he was worried. That evening we stood at the door when he was leaving and I was giving him words of encouragement. I don't know whether I put my arm around him or he put his arm around me, but we moved closer together, so close I could feel his erect penis pushing against his pants. I pulled away immediately. We held hands for a few moments before I pulled away.

Two night later Eddie greeted me at the door. He was a few minutes late. I think I knew why after he came in. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to him. "Thanks to you I passed my biology test," he said so effusively. Then he kissed my forehead as I looked up at him. Then he let go of my hands and said, "Oh, I'm sorry Mrs. Moore. I shouldn't have done that. I assured him that it was all right, and that I was happy for him.

When our session was over that evening we stood at the door. Eddie looked at me, then kissed my forehead again. "I am so happy to have you as a teacher," he said.

In reply I smiled up at him and said, "You can do better than that, Eddie." He gave me a hesitant look, put his arms around me, and kissed me on the lips. I pulled him toward me and kissed him in return. Our relationship became gradually more intimate. Often when I was rubbing his head he would rub my leg, and even work his hand up almost to my panties. Following our sessions I was always very wet down there.

One evening Eddie told me that he finally had a date with a white girl at the college. It was a rainy evening and I drove hm home that night. We sat in my car for quite a while discussing his date, and that evening his hand reached my panties for the first time. He felt me through my panties, and in turn I felt his tumescent penis trying to get out of his pants. It was a dangerous place to do such things, and I cut it off before he went any farther.

At our next session he told me that he was not able to get anywhere with his date. He pulled out a packet with 3 condoms and said, "I wasted three dollars buying these expensive condoms. Money down the drain."

I honestly can't recall exactly what transpired next, but Eddie mentioned something about never being able to "unload his balls in a white pussy". Somehow I gave him the impression that if he put on one of his condoms I would masturbate him. Anyway, I watched him roll on the condom. I had never seen a man put on a condom, and mo man had ever had sex with me with one. That condom sure had to stretch to cover his turgid organ.

I played with his penis for only a minute or two before he pushed me back on the sofa-bed and kissed me while reaching under my dress for my panties. I know he started to remove my panties, but I finished the job. He moved between my legs and I remember he was pushing his penis all around down there trying to find my opening before I finally took his penis and guided it to the proper place. I don't think he had his penis all the way in before he yelled, "Oh, my God!" Then he pushed his turgid penis in farther. I knew that he had his orgasm. He made an attempt to thrust in and out, but he fell out almost immediately. He moved off me and I moved away from him.

Eddie was all apologies about his quickness. He gave me some excuses, and I know I did not say much. I have to admit that I was disappointed, but I did not say anything. That ended our tutoring session that evening. It was almost ten o'clock. I would not have dared to do what I did that evening, but my husband was at a basketball game, and I knew he would not be home for another hour.

That next Saturday I had a close call because of my activity with Eddie. My husband discovered Eddies's used condom in the toilet. I gave my husband a story about how I suspected that condom got in the toilet.

At my next session With Eddie he insisted he had flushed that condom. Apparently they don't go down toilets easily.

A couple sessions later - again my husband was at a game - Eddie and I became naughty. I suggested to Eddie that he should masturbate before trying to have sex with a woman, and then if he had sex he could last much longer. Well, before long we were doing some kissing and intimate touching. I know I should have stopped him when he exposed my breasts and began suckling on them, but it felt so good. He had really aroused me, I was very eager to have sex with him. If my husband were home I never would have initiated any activity with Eddie.

While Eddie lay on the sofa bed I masturbated him. That was interesting. Although I had been married a dozen years, I had never seen my husband's semen squirting out of his penis. When Eddie told me that he was going to "shoot" I looked intently. His semen spurted straight up about three feet, then dropped on his belly and my hand. I got a hand towel and wiped off my hand and his penis.

My husband's penis always softened immediately after we had sex, but Eddie's remained quite firm. I Think we hugged and kissed for about ten minutes before I fondled his penis until it was again standing almost straight up. This time he let me put the condom on.

That was much better sex than the first time we had done it. Eddie still did not last as long as I would have liked, but it was still good sex. I liked it very much.

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byTeves© 50 comments/ 63903 views/ 5 favorites

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